Vampires, fey folk, werewolves, Shadowhunters, and demons - these things made sense to Magnus. But the mundane world - it seemed to have no pattern, no form. Their quicksilver politics. Their short lives.

There are ways in which we’re so alike. We’re reckless. We don’t think before we act. We’ll do anything for people we love. And I never thought how scary that was for the people who loved me until I saw

Doubtless the lunatic asylums of the world are filled with unfortunate women who have failed to see my charms.

When I was a little kid, I realized that if you say any word over and over fast enough, it loses all meaning. I'd lie awake saying the words over and over to myself--'sugar,' 'mirror,' 'whisper,' 'dark.' 'Sister,'" he said softly. "You're my sister." "It doesn't matter how many times you say it. It'll still be true." "And it doesn't matter what you won't let me say, that'll still be true too.

Look, I asked you here for a reason. Much as I hate to admit it, vampire, we have something in common. " "Totally awesome hair?" Simon suggested, but his heart wasn't really in it either. Something about the look on Jace's face was making him increasingly uneasy. Simon was caught off guard. "Clary?" "Clary, " Jace said again. "You know: short, redheaded, bad temper.

His steady gaze held hers. His blue eyes were very dark, uniquely so. She had known people before with blue eyes, but they had always been light blue. Will's were the color of the sky just on the edge of night.

She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything--an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps these things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would already have been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.